<p>Comment these essays. Please. Thanks.</p>
<p>A Secret Hidden</p>
<p>Secrets are the looking glasses through which we can see the inner depths of ones soul. They are the prisoners of the mind, forever lurking furtively in the catacombs of the past. They are a potential hindrance; a brooding gloom over ones present and future. If extricated, they can cause discordance and destruction. Like you, I too have a secret.
Since my childhood, I have held a secret. Only my closest friends know of this secret, for others could not comprehend my internal burden. My secret is that I had two mothers. These juxtaposing entities arose from the fact that my mother had manic depression and schizophrenia. The average person can not fathom what it is like to be raised by a parent who has two opposing personalities. It was like tossing a coin; I never knew which half of the enigma that I would receive.
One version of my mother was nurturing and pleasant. This was the mother who taught me how to read. Cat in the Hat became an omnipresent figure in the household. She was the mother who taught me how to tie my shoes. Gently holding my hands, she taught me a skill that I would use for the rest of my life. She was in constant happiness; she always embraced my siblings and me with a joyous disposition. She laid the stepping stones on which my foundation was built. She was my structural support.
My mothers second personality was not as nurturing. This was her doppelganger, a distorted reflection of her true nature. She became a stranger. I no longer recognized her by the sparkle in her eyes. She became darker and more distant. This version was irate and volatile. This was the mother who offered me bleach when I asked for orange juice. She became paranoid and would take my siblings and me to walk the streets of Philadelphia in the darkest of night. My childhood was unpredictable; I never knew where the distant stranger would take me. I never fully grew accustomed to these rituals. I held on to the belief that this was temporary, that I would regain the mother that I loved the most. It was not until my mothers suicide attempt that I finally realized that this would not be transient, but an integral aspect of my existence. The day my mother tried to commit suicide was the day I lost a part of my soul. I still can imagine a half empty bottle of pills when I close my eyes.
This secret has molded me into the person I am today. It has given me a strength that many do not acquire until their adulthood. It has given me an optimism that lets me see past the mist and the fog. Greatest of all, these experiences have given me the ability to take advantage of life as it comes. One never knows what can be lost by tomorrow. This is why I have written this essay. I want to take advantage of an opportunity that may cease to exist by tomorrows dawn. </p>
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<p>Lifelong Transition</p>
<p>Changing and shifting like a grain of sand that is never stagnant, but forever moving. New and different like a refugee traveling to another land, not quite a chameleon for he stands out, but one that is accustomed to change. Soaring and drifting in constant inconsistency like a lost balloon above the mundane plain. I am that grain of sand; I am that refugee; I am that soaring balloon. I am the product of change.
Even from a young age I have been capable of adapting to different environments. I have been in constant transition. I have lived in six different cities and three different time zones. My family and I have moved across state lines a total of five times. I have recently been enrolled into my third high school. The magnitude of change I have encountered has made me a formidable adversary to any bad situation. I change what many would consider undesirable to something that could enhance my life.
After I moved to New Jersey from Indiana, I turned the experience into a learning opportunity. This was the turning point in my life when I realized that diversity is a significant component of a well-rounded life experience. I became a sponge, absorbing all things international. I associated myself with friends of all different nationalities. I had friends from Jamaica who spoke Patois, and friends from Peru who spoke Spanish. I even had friends from Southeast Asia (who taught me how to play cricket, one of the most exciting sports I have ever played) that spoke Urdu.
I also became open to different beliefs and customs. I began to discover that every nation had its own distinction. What is peculiar to me may be normal to someone else, and vice versa. For example, a common practice in Peru is to eat guinea pig. This is not considered normal by most of the people living in this nation. In the United States, guinea pigs are pets, not a tasty midnight snack. My philosophy in life is to try different things. If I were to visit the city of Cusco and someone offered me a piece of guinea pig, I would eat it. I am not afraid to step outside my comfort zone.
Many of my friends also have varied religious beliefs. I do not feel that a potentially lifelong friendship should be hindered by personal beliefs. I am a Christian, and a few of my friends are Muslim. I also have Jewish friends. We do not choose to argue over whether Jesus was the messiah or not, and we certainly do not dismiss each others religious texts. My friends and I are proof that, with just a little understanding, people of different religions can get along. I still have these friends until this day, and they are excellent cricket players.
Although I do want consistency at some point of my life, that will be in the distant future. College is an open window for me to figure out who I am, and who I want to become. It is the path through which I will learn how I react to difficult challenges. I plan to take advantage of this. But for now, I am changing and shifting like a grain of sand that is never stagnant, but forever moving. </p>
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<p>The Product of a Dream</p>
<p>One day I will be on one of those, dreams a young farmers son as he gazes up at the airplane that passes overhead. I will travel the world. It would be only a matter of time before this boy realized his dream. </p>
<p>Many people have aspirations, some greater than others. People are often hesitant to follow these dreams because of the magnitude of their dreams. Dreamers should not believe that they are bound to their current situation. Raised in a small community, my father did not let his circumstances prevent his future. He imagined, and went beyond anything his family or friends could fathom. This is why my father has had one of the greatest impacts on my life; he has given me the gift of imagination.
Born in the village of Abbi, Nigeria, my father had lived a rather simple life. He was raised in the fifties. During this period, his village did not have running water or electricity. His life was that of a farmers son; he grew yams. His life was not complicated by the modern technology that my generation has grown accustomed to. Many people ask him how a man with such a modest background could want to be a world traveler. His reply is always brief and succinct: I imagined.
My father has always raised my siblings and me to imagine what we want. He knows that this is the main step one has to take in order to achieve anything. Without imagination, my father would not have been able to travel to Denmark on a foreign exchange scholarship, or to the United States to obtain his Ph.D. in Physiology. This innate ability to dream is what has propelled me in my personal endeavors. If it were not for my father always teaching me that I could always accomplish what I put my mind to, I probably would not have tried to bolster my transcript with good grades in order to accomplish my ultimate goal of attending Princeton University. If it were not for him, I probably would not even be writing this essay right now. It takes courage and strength to act on a dream that is much larger than yourself.
My peers and even the occasional teacher have belittled my dream to go to Princeton. I have been told that it is out of my grasp, that I could never accomplish this goal for it is farther than the scope of my present situation. When I hear people laugh at my dream, I too laugh. I laugh because I know that with imagination, faith, and hard work, I can accomplish anything that I set my mind to. I always tell those who mock my dream my fathers story. I even tell them the advice that my father has always given me: Imagine. Without my fathers imagination I would not exist. I am the product of my fathers dream.</p>